


By Virtue of Our Birth

by Pukepeku (pukepeku)



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alucard!Adora, Belmont!Catra, Character Death, Dracula!Light Hope, F/F, Gen, Lisa!Mara, catradora
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:13:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25224439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pukepeku/pseuds/Pukepeku
Summary: Hear me out: Castlevania!Catradora because why not?Just to be perfectly clear, this is the Netflix Castlevania reimagined with SPOP (2018) characters. A lot of the dialogue will be similar to the Netflix series until we get to the lesbians because they're chaotic like that. Let's see where this goes, shall we?
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Light Hope/Mara (She-Ra)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 46





	By Virtue of Our Birth

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, fellow queers. Two things:
> 
> First, this fic is a brain child of my conversations with @incoherentorca (that's her Twitter handle, give her and her art some love!) about reimagining Catradora in the Castlevania AU. This might turn into a trainwreck because my writing skills have severely deteriorated ever since I started university but at the very least I can offer my services HAHA. This is also un-beta-ed so I apologize for any lapses.
> 
> Second, this will most likely involve a lot of gore and violence and possible character deaths. I mean, you can probably guess already from the tags. So if you're not comfortable with that and would like to skip this fic entirely, I completely understand.
> 
> That's it for now, I think. Enjoy!
> 
> *
> 
> UPDATE: I changed from SW to Hordak in this fic because it just makes more sense? So yeah, sorry about that!

_Breathe_.

The abhorrent smell almost makes her retch. _No breathing through the nose, then._

The lone woman continues her trek through the maze of bodies on spikes. She has grown accustomed to grotesque display of body mutilations thanks to her chosen profession, but she starts to feel a little lightheaded at the sheer number of corpses, their heads lolled on broken necks. Some have missing eyes, possibly eaten by the hungry crows. If she grows a little more paranoid, she might actually think they’re still alive, watching her pass them by to meet their killer.

She grits her teeth. Right, she is meeting with an immortal being who could pretty well shred her in mere seconds. She produces a weapon from her satchel and sighs. What good will a measly knife do to an immortal? If she is to be successful however, she might never have to use it pitifully against said being. She only needs to be charming and respectful. That’s all.

The woman adjusts the hood of her cloak, feeling her sweat pool at the base of her neck as she marches forward with purpose. She has no problem navigating, her destination being the largest structure in the entire area. The dark, oppressive towers loom over the barren land, casting almost a kilometer-long shadow in the sunset rays. Should she have come in the light to ensure her safety? Possibly. That might have been the smartest move. Then again, how does one be courteous to a sleep-deprived blood sucker who probably will not appreciate being threatened with sunlight? She wonders if she is overcompensating with the niceties, but she is desperate. The people in her village are dying from ailments no one can cure. She is the only one brave enough (or absolutely mad enough) to even pursue this route.

That is why she told no one of her self-imposed mission. Possibly another decision she will come to regret. If she ends up another body on the elaborate spike decorations, so be it. At least she tried.

She muses on these thoughts for a while and before she realizes it, she has reached the ornate double doors. It stands almost 10 times her height, easy. Before she can begin to regret her decisions in life, she knocks.

_Boom. Boom. Boom._

She holds her breath, hoping it won’t be her last. A moment passes. Another. Nothing?

_Boom. Boom. Boom._

Surely, they are awake by now?

The woman huffs impatiently and decides to throw caution into the air. She pushes her sleeves up to her elbows and readies herself to open the door with force. Before she can ram into them, the doors creak open ominously, the hinges groaning at the effort.

It swings wide. And inside it is… light? She imagined what lies ahead would remind her of death and possibly the void but this is too light for it to house an undead. Candlelight illuminates the entire hall while oddly colored lanterns above give off a light blue hue. The ceiling is high enough that she is not sure where it ends. Towering marble columns line the hall. There is a carpet, red as blood (of course), leading those who enter to the grand staircase. The stairs themselves are elegant; from the top are two opposite stairs that converge onto a platform where there is a symbol carved onto the wall. Down the platform is another set of stairs which widens at the bottom. Above the stairs is another hall but it is too high for her to see beyond. This entire room hums with some sort of energy she cannot place, only that it smells faintly of oil and… lightning? It makes no sense. Nevertheless, this hall was possibly made to greet whoever enters the castle… who probably ends up dead before the conversation lasts a second.

Well, best to start now.

“Hello?” the woman calls out. “My name is Mara.”

No answer.

“My name is Mara,” she repeats as she walks forward. Her hollow footsteps echo in faintly in the chamber. “I come from the village of Northland. I want to be a doctor.”

As soon as she finishes her sentence, the door slams close behind her. Mara almost jumps a meter into the air. Someone materializes at the top of the elaborate staircase before her very eyes. From this distance, she can only see a tall person with bluish-white-colored hair. Her dark purple cape covering her entire body as she stands ominously still. Mara decides to sheath her knife. Almost as a response, the person walks down the stairs and vanishes.

“You dare bang on my front door.” The voice sounds feminine and on a dangerous low timbre, sending chills down her spine. “All because you want to daub pheasant blood on villagers.”

Despite her fear, Mara scrunches her brows. She removes the hood of her cloak, revealing long brown hair that curls in waves beyond her shoulder. Her gray eyes have a glint in them. She puffs her chest. “So, you did hear me knock.”

“You call that infernal noise knocking?”

_Where is that voice coming from?_ It seems to be everywhere. Mara can somehow hear the cape flapping, but the source is too fast for her to determine its location.

“It’s called being polite,” Mara says. “And we’re freshly out of pheasants and have been using chickens as substitute.”

“Then, you are a witch parading as a doctor.”

There is an undertone of annoyance in the voice now. Mara hears the cape flap again and suddenly she feels a presence behind her. A dangerous presence that tells her to run as fast as she can if she wants to live. She longs to hold her knife but she knows it will be the end of her if she does. A steady breath can be felt on her shoulder with a slight growl underneath its composure.

Mara is tempted to look behind her to see but she sighs instead. “Sarcasm is not welcome, I see. I am not a witch despite what people say. I am a believer of science, but I need to know more. And all the stories say there is a being who lives here with secret knowledge.”

The immortal hums and leans forward a little above her shoulder that Mara fears her neck will be torn off. A clawed hand hovers over her other shoulder. “I am Dracula Grayskull and I do _not_ get many visitors. What have you to trade for my knowledge, Mara from Northland?”

Mara’s thoughts race and comes to the most obvious conclusion. _Blood?_ Then again, there is something about how this being talks that irks her, so she steels her nerves and walks forward, putting some distance between them. When she turns around, she finally sees the entirety.

_Oh_.

The bluish-white hair frames Dracula’s sharp features as she is leaning forward, surprise evident in her face. Her eyes are pale blue, almost as pale as her skin. Underneath her cape is a robe with odd geometric shapes. Her mouth slightly open to reveal a set of pearly white teeth, her fangs on display.

Vampire.

If Mara is completely honest, she thinks this legendary being is… intriguing. She chastises herself mentally however and refocuses on what is irking her. “Perhaps I should help you relearn some manners.”

That garners her an incredulous look.

“I’ve crossed the threshold of your home,” Mara continues, “and you haven’t offered me a drink or taken my coat. There is an imbalance of propriety, is there not?”

Dracula straightens to her full height. “What if I took a drink from you? Or have you loaded yourself with silver, symbols, and _garlic_ in superstitious fear?”

Mara feels conscious. She did think about it but the best she did was, “I might have eaten some roasted garlic earlier. Was it rude? It was the only thing I had on hand.”

At her words, Dracula chuckles. She seems confused but also slightly amused at Mara for which the latter is more than glad.

“I’m really not interested in superstition.” Mara lets a tinge of desperation in her voice. “Or be the odd woman in our village muttering nonsense and offering remedies that would most likely hasten our people’s deaths.”

At this point, Dracula has started circling around Mara, observing her intensely. Her footsteps do not echo at all, as if she drifts above the floor.

Mara puts a hand on her chest. “I want to _heal_ people. I want to learn. Will you help me?”

Dracula stops and looks at Mara curiously. “You are…very different from the humans I’ve met in the recent years. I have less of an urge to throw you off my window.”

The young woman crosses her arms. “ _That_ is exactly what I mean. Maybe I can teach you to like humans again and not to throw them off your window. Or, who knows, stop putting them on spikes for a change.”

“Hmph, I gave that up a long time ago. I do have a question for you. Where is Northland?”

Dracula walks away towards the staircase again. Mara jogs to keep up with her. “You don’t travel much, do you?” Mara asks.

“I do. This entire structure is a travelling machine.”

“But…you don’t. Not really, at least. You should try, the world outside your castle is changing! Travel like people do, and you might like it.”

Mara cannot stop herself from smiling at the thought. This stoic vampire travelling, meeting new people? And these people would not know any better that they have interacted with a legend. The thought excites her for some reason. She looks around the chamber and thinks how lonely she must get.

Dracula however raises an eyebrow at her. “I’ve known you mere minutes and you offer for me to walk Etheria like a commoner while I give you the knowledge of immortals, the _true_ science.”

She waves a hand towards another set of double doors that swing wide open, golden light pouring onto their faces. Mara gasps. She sees a globe that seems to have trapped lightning, a large cylindrical device that is pointed to the sky, the bubbling liquids in various oddly shaped glass containers, the books in hundreds of bookshelves lining the walls… She cannot fathom the amount of knowledge stored in this chamber and she practically vibrates at the thought of learning all she can.

Mara senses eyes on her. When she turns around, there is a look of pride on Dracula’s face and Mara thinks it makes her look less ominous and… does she look fond? The thought escapes her though as she basks in the view. Mara can hear the village priest screaming in her face, calling her a witch. But she does not care, this is what she came for.

“If you teach them…” Mara’s voice comes out a little to breathy and she clears her throat. “If you teach them, they won’t be as common a people.” She approaches Dracula excitedly. “They won’t have to fear dying before their time if they are given real medicine. Superstitions won’t hold them anymore once they learn how the world truly works!”

“And why should I do that?”

“To make the world better!” Mara chuckles and smiles. “Start with me, be my friend, and I’ll start with you.”

For a moment, Dracula has a strange look on her face as she evaluates Mara’s words. The former then smiles back a little and bows, holding a hand towards the room.

“Friend? I think I might like you, Mara of Northland.”

TEN YEARS LATER

Erelandia, Etheria.

One of the largest cities of Etheria, it houses the holy cathedral of the Brotherhood. It is also where a large bonfire is lit just below the arches leading to the cathedral itself. Except…

Mara is on the bonfire, tied to a wooden pole. Her once long hair is cut short and she has bruises everywhere on her skin. Her head is bowed as she tries to endure the heat but eventually releases a pained gasp as the flames lick her feet. She looks up and sees the priests of the Brotherhood holding out the church’s religious symbol at her, shouting useless prayers and calling upon the blessings of Prime. She lets out a bloodcurdling scream as she starts to blister. The people watching her burn hold pitchforks and other weapons in their hands, as if a helpless woman would be able to attack them.

One of the Brotherhood’s high-ranking officials, the one they call Lord Hordak, stands resolutely as he observes the burning of the witch. Erelandia’s mayor comes up beside him. “Devil engines in her house, you saw them yourself, Lord?”

“And glass in shapes you’ve never seen before, thin as paper.” Hordak nods. “Lightning in lanterns. Strange weeds and tools. Witchcraft. Of all the witches I’ve exterminated, none had such a collection like hers.”

“And it had to come to this?” the mayor asks.

“She called it _science_ , mayor. Mara Grayskull of Northland was so far gone that she couldn’t see it was all given to her by the devil.”

“You know I’ve done some studies in the chemical sciences—” The glare Hordak shoots at the mayor gets him back tracking. “J-just a study of course!”

“The High Lord of Erelandia would like to keep life simple, mayor.” Mara screams again, the flames licking up her body now. “Simple. Pure. Good.”

Mara’s throat is dry and raw, but she must try. She has to try. Or else all that they’ve worked on will be for nothing. She raises her head to the sky, hoping her love would hear her pleas.

“Don’t hurt them! They don’t understand!” The tears streaming from her eyes quickly dry with the heat.

Hordak scoffs. “Calling on the devil to take mercy on us? How kind of her, even for a witch. Perhaps I will offer a small prayer for her soul.”

Mara is suffocating. She can barely see beyond the flames. She no longer has the time and her calls are most likely unheard. She feels despair grip her heart. But she has to try. “I know it’s not your fault but—! If you can hear—they _don’t_ know what they’re doing! Be better than them! Please!”

The flames engulf her, and she screams one last time.

Northland, Etheria.

A figure trudges up the path on Northland. She wears a dark purple coat over her white tunic faintly covered with geometric patterns and her dark blue pants. Her boots are covered in mud and dust. She carries a traveler’s pack on her back, holding the strap with her left hand where one can see a silver wedding ring on her finger.

Dracula is not tired, but she is weary. She travelled too far once again but she marches on. _Mara. I will see Mara again._

She thinks of the stories she will tell Mara once they meet, hugging her tightly, and giving her the dried flowers Dracula kept in her travelling notebook. They will go back to the castle again, see their darling girl, and be together as a family once more.

Dracula quickens her pace, excitement cannot be contained anymore—

Dracula stops dead in her tracks. The breeze just now… there’s a strange scent to it. She looks down on the ground and sees what resembles dried blood. She slowly looks up and—

No.

No. _No._

The house! Mara’s clinic! Why has it turned to rubble?

Dracula leaves her pack on the ground and runs to the now-destroyed clinic. What was once a quaint structure made of stone is now burned to the ground. _What happened?!_

She sees an old human kneeling on the ground in front of the house. She _must_ know something. Dracula sees her lay a small bouquet of flowers beloved by Mara. Must be one of her patients!

The old woman looks up once she hears Dracula’s footsteps. “Oh, are you a friend of Mara? The one that travels? She talked fondly of you.”

_Pathetic, outdated mortal._ Dracula almost hisses. “Yes. Where is she?”

“They took her away,” the old woman sobs. “I saw Lord Hordak come to this house with some of the priests of the Brotherhood. Arrested her for witchcraft. They’re… burning her at the stake.”

This makes Dracula’s hackles rise. She prowled slowly inside and sees something glint on the ground. She kneels and picks up a familiar locket.

“She was good to me, Mara,” the old woman murmurs. “A good doctor. This is not right.”

Dracula opens the locket and sees the burnt sketch of her face staring solemnly back. The words on the other side of the locket read, _My Love, My Light of Hope._

Dracula barely swallows a sob before asking, “Where are they holding her? The cathedral?”

“Oh.” The old woman bows her head. “Oh no, ma’am. She’ll be dead by now.”

“…what?”

The old woman stands up, her head still bowed but she looks away from Dracula. “I don’t care what they say, I won’t take joy in that woman being killed by the church. I’m here remembering her instead.”

Dracula stands up as well, keeping her back to the woman. Red tears have started to stream down her face. When she speaks, it is rough and low.

“She said to me, if you would love me as a human, then live as a human. Travel like people.”

“I don’t understand—”

“And I did. The way _people_ do. Slowly. No more.”

Dracula turns back to glare at the woman, her eyes burning bright red with rage. She stalks toward the old woman, her voice turning into a guttural growl. “I do this last kindness in her name. She, who loved you humans and cared for your ills. Take your family and leave Etheria _tonight_.”

The old woman steps back, gasping in fear as Dracula looms over her, the latter’s bloody eyes seemingly piercing through her very being.

“Pack and go. And _do not look back_.”

Roaring flames engulf Dracula, causing the old woman to stumble back and whimper. The magical fire starts licking around Dracula’s body menacingly.

“For no longer will I travel as a human!”

All the old woman could see is a large explosion before she hits her head on a wall. Once she awakes, there is a charred crater where Mara’s friend was, and the flowers she placed on the ground are singed.

Erelandia, Etheria.

What remains of Mara clatter into the flames as people shouted and cheered in victory. Hordak nods in satisfaction as the fire roars in front of him. The mayor comes up beside her again. “Quite a show. Drinks?”

“I should minister to the High Lord,” Lord Hordak declines. “His health is deteriorating to be quite honest.”

They begin walking away from the pyre.

“Off to Prime it is with you lot, I suppose,” the mayor muses.

Hordak harrumphs. “It barely has any appeal to me. There is so much to be done on Etheria. It could be the haven for the Brotherhood and its teachings if only I have the time to exterminate all the evil that resides here.”

He sighs for a moment before the pyre behind him explodes.

An ungodly sound emanates from the pyre as a column of fire shoots up towards the sky. A face is slowly formed from the flames as the people start screaming in fear. They hold up their pitchforks in a futile effort to stave off this unknown entity. Shadow Hordak and the mayor look back only to witness another explosion, as if the flames have a mind of their own.

The face that forms resembles a feminine face, her features hard with unbridled fury. “ _WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?_ ”

“The devil!” the mayor gasps.

“ _WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY WIFE?!_ ”

Dracula’s growl sends people on their knees, some are asking for mercy, while the others are wailing uncontrollably. Hordak takes out the Brotherhood’s symbol and starts chanting and forming shapes in the air. Useless effort.

“I am Dracula Grayskull and I demand you tell me why you did this to my wife!” Dracula snarls and the flames expand, burning those closest to the pyre.

“Oh god,” the mayor whimpers. “Dracula? You were supposed to be a myth, a story made by heretics!”

“She’s a witch!” Hordak shouts in response to the flames.

Dracula’s voice drops. “Mara Grayskull was a woman of science, and the one person who justified the humans’ existence on this planet!”

“You are not real,” Hordak declares. “You are only a fiction to justify the practice of evil magic!”

“ _A FICTION?_ ” The flames howl louder. “ _YOU’VE TAKEN MY WIFE AND DENY I EVEN EXIST._ I give you one year, Etherians. One year to make your peace and remove any marks you have upon this land. One year, and then I will extinguish all life on Etheria! You took that which I love, so I will take from you _everything_ you have and _everything_ you’ve ever been.”

Confusion and utter fear silence the crowd.

“ONE. YEAR.” Dracula warns before the pyre explodes once again with an ungodly howl, causing the glass on every window nearby to shatter and fall onto the civilians.

As they look up to the sky, they see fireballs falling onto the land and they run in panic and fear. Hordak stays kneeled on the ground, her head bowed in contemplation in the distorted noise of her supposed people. _The devil always lies_.

Dracula’s Castle, unknown country.

The mirror before Dracula shatters and floats up, the shards scattering in the air. She walks to a nearby reading stand and, with a guttural shout, destroys it in one blow. She goes to a nearby desk and pushes everything to the side before punching the desk until it is reduced to splinters. She pants in anger and holds up a hand to where the mirrors are.

“ONE YEAR! It will take me one year to summon an army from the depths of the Abyss!”

The mirror shards form an elaborate shape, resembling the giant staircase in Dracula’s castle. Before she can begin however, the doors open and she hears a feminine voice.

“No.”

Dracula barely looks back and sees a figure illuminated from the behind. “What do you mean… _no_?” she demands. “That woman was the only reason on this planet for me to tolerate HUMAN LIFE!”

She turns back fully and sees a familiar face. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail, her sword at the side, as she stands resolute by the door. “Then find the one who did it,” she reasons. “If you let loose an army of the night on Etheria, you cannot undo it. Many thousands of people just as innocent as her will die.”

“THERE ARE NO INNOCENTS. NOT ANYMORE!” Dracula takes a menacing step towards the other woman. “Any one of them could have stood up and said, ‘no, we will not behave like animals anymore.’”

“I _won’t_ let you do it.” The other woman closes her eyes for a moment before they shift from azure to pale blue. “I grieve with you, but I won’t let you commit genocide.”

Dracula, Mara’s Light of Hope, clenches her jaw and leaps at the young woman in front of her. Her hands outstretched in anger as she releases a feral snarl, taking a swipe at the other. The young woman attempts to block the blow with her sword and then—

Blood. Silence.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is still interested in reading this, I might update every two weeks? Depends on my stamina and my free time since I'll be working on my thesis as well.
> 
> Also! I thought of this because I was inspired by this Castlevania AU fanart by @CruxBatFace on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/CruxBatface/status/1280322925179133953?s=20)  
> Show them some love as well!
> 
> Tell me what you think in the comments below!
> 
> Hit me up @pukepeku on Twitter if you want to hear me screaming about Catradora and She-Ra in general HAHA


End file.
